Sworn Loyalty
by kuvyyra
Summary: In a world where Lord Voldemort won the First Wizarding War, Harry lived hidden with his aunt and uncle until the age of nine, where he was brought into Wizarding Britain. He hopes to become a Death Eater, but after being beaten down by the "superior purebloods" what is he to do? That is until he finds a friend and partner-in-crime in Lord Voldemort. Eventual HP/LV
1. Chapter 1: New World

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

The day had started like any other, with no indication that a life-changing event would be occurring.

Like any other day, 9 year old Harry Potter woke up to the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia screeching for him to wake up and prepare breakfast for his "family". He left the cupboard under the stairs he called his room, making his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two whale-like humans sitting at the small dinner table, eying him disdainfully with their beady eyes.

The knock that sounded from the door was completely unexpected, as Harry had inferred from the look that Aunt Petunia sent Uncle Vernon. Dudley, who was too busy stuffing his face with pancakes, did not hear the knock, only looking up as he heard his mother scream from the door.

•~•~•~•

After the Dark Lord Voldemort had won the Wizarding War, all muggleborn and muggle-raised children were brought into the wizarding world at the age of nine to first be trained in the fundamentals of magic and wizarding cultures and traditions that were known to all purebloods and halfbloods raised in Wizarding Britain. One of the many tests that Death Eater recruits, more commonly known as Grims, had to pass in their road to becoming a fully-fledged Death Eater was to locate and bring the child into the Wizarding World unharmed. Their task also consisted of _obliviating_ difficult parents and guardians without raising suspicion.

Children taken from the muggle world would then be tested for loyalty at the end of their two years of education at the multiple training facilities around Britain. Those found loyal can then proceed to obtain an education at Hogwarts or at other institutions based on magical abilities and intelligence. Of course, to keep the pureblood population happy, pureblood children were given priority when entering Hogwarts.

However, it was a vastly different fate for those found disloyal or overly sceptical. They are sentenced to a life of servitude; hirelings for those that have no decent amount of magic or looks, courtesans for girls that do not meet the criteria for a bearer but are still good-looking and for boys that are good-looking. Finally, bearers are girls that have strong magical talent and are fertile enough to produce children. This was part of a campaign to boost the magical population of Wizarding Britain with magically strong children and a much lower chance of having squibs.

These people are denied access to further education, a wand and rights, for they have forfeited them with their treacherous thoughts and believes.

It was quite nerve-wrecking for Joseph Hoplin to retrieve a child to be brought into a world unknown to him, not to mention having to make a good impression on the child; he wouldn't want to have brought a potential adversary or traitor into his home. Not that the Death Eater forces inclusive of the Dark Lord himself would be unable to subdue a young child, he thought hastily.

He glanced at the scrap of parchment in his hand and glanced up at the sign.

No. 4 Privet Drive, Harry James Potter

This should be right. He had put enormous effort into locating a magical child as part of his task in becoming a marked Death Eater. It was his dream after one Bartemius Crouch came to collect him from his negligent family in the muggle world. He excelled in the primary school he was assigned to attend and made it to Hogwarts, the school reserved for the high ability children. Even pureblood children had to clear an examination in their second year to continue their education there. That did not make him any more popular there though; he was often bullied and jeered at for his status as a muggleborn. And thus he went on to join the Reaper Academy, and he would be lying if he said he did not feel a twisted sense of satisfaction when some of the so-called all-powerful, mighty purebloods did not get accepted.

He knocked on the door of No. 4 Privet Drive and hoped and prayed that he didn't locate the wrong house. What an embarrassment that would be. He would hope to make his mentor, Barty, proud, after all Barty had done for him. His head snapped back up upon hearing it creak open softly, before a woman which remarkably resembled a horse screamed. Only his training as a future Death Eater stopped him from taking a step back and showing the disgust he felt so prominently.

"I'm here for one Harry Potter. Is he in?" Joseph started out.

"No! We do not want any more of you freaks in our house!" he stared at the despicable woman and frowned deeply.

"By order of the Dark Lord, you are to hand any and every magical child over to us, or I would have no choice but to use force."

"What's going on here, eh? Don't you know some folks want to watch the telly in peace?" What is it with this family resembling animals, first a horse and now a whale? The man's face turned an ugly shade of puce before bellowing

"Get out my house! We do not want any more of your kind here!" the man scrunched his fist together in an effort to look threatening, but after you've met some of the inner circle Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, no muggle will ever match up. He whipped out his wand which made the man freeze and the woman shrieked. He forced his way into the house with the muggles trailing helplessly behind him. He grabbed the fat whale boy that whimpered pathetically for mummy, one hand still clutching his food, before he turned over and commanded in a cold voice.

"Hand him over, please."

"Not my Dudley! Take the other boy!" The boy, whom he assumed to be Harry Potter, went from laughing quietly at the whale boy's predicament to a horrified expression before slowly backing away until he hit the table behind him. Joseph dropped the boy and beckoned Harry over with a slight smile on his face. Harry refused to budge until the whale man held him by the back of his neck and pushed him over to Joseph. He whispered in Harry's ear, "I'm not going to hurt you, Harry Potter." Harry looked at him with such hope shining in his bright emerald green eyes that it broke Joseph's heart. He steadily raised his arm, wand in hand, before saying clearly, "Obliviate." He slipped out of the house with Harry in tow. He brought young Harry to the nearby park and sat him down on a bench.

"Sorry about that, Mr Potter, please do not be afraid."

"What was that you did to them? How'd you do it?" he asked with wonder.

"Well, you see, I'm a wizard, Mr Potter, and so are you." Harry stared at him in shock after the announcement, his mouth shifting as if he wanted to speak, until finally, he stuttered out, "A… a wizard? I…I can't be a wizard… I'm just Harry… just Harry." he said the last few words as if trying to convince himself.

"Well, Harry, I'm sure you've made things happen without explanation. Think about it." Joseph almost sighed with relief when Harry nodded after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Um, I did once turn my teacher's hair blue after she scolded me for no reason…"

"Then that should clear up any doubts you have. Now hold onto my hand, we will be going back to the Wizarding World," he smiled at Harry's eager nod, before making sure there were no muggles around to witness the apparition. Harry felt what could be described as the sensation of being sucked through a straw before his feet hit the ground in a new environment. He almost collapsed and felt exceptionally nauseous. He looked around after he had recovered and found himself in a rather grand entrance hall. They walked further into the place before they stopped in a room filled with five other children.

"Welcome to the British Primary School for Muggleborns and Muggle-raised! Why don't you mingle with the other children first, I have to go speak to someone." Harry waved to Joseph as he sprinted off in the direction of the stairwell. Harry watched the other children; they all seemed to already have friends and so Harry walked towards a bushy haired girl that seemed to not be socialising.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter, what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Hermione Granger. Were your parents' muggles?"

"I was raised by my aunt and uncle, I never knew my parents," Harry responded.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright, I ever knew them, and so I can't say I miss them."

They stuck up easy conversation, and Harry learnt just how excited she was about being a witch, despite having to leave her parents forever. Hermione also introduced the rest of the children in the room to him. A Irish boy named Seamus Finnigan, a dark skinned boy named Dean Thomas, a sweet but rather dreamy girl who introduced herself as Lavender Brown, a brown haired boy called Justin Finch-Fletchley. They were all either muggleborns or raised by muggles.

Soon after, a stern looking lady, who had introduced herself as Mrs Hogan, came into the room and led them to their permanent dormitory.

"This will be your home for the next few years. I'm not only talking about the years you will spend here in the primary school, but this will also be your home when you return for the summer holiday from whichever school you are accepted into following your education here. I will hope that none of you will follow the alternate fate that befalls those disloyal." Hermione raised her hand hesitantly and spoke only when Mrs Hogan turned her attention to her raised hand.

"Mrs Hogan, ma'am? What exactly is it, which follows the disloyal?" Hermione asked, almost as if she didn't truly want to know what happens.

"Well, Ms Granger, a life of servitude. You have forfeited the right to an education and free use of your magic and wand if you strive to disrupt the peaceful lives of wizards and witch alike in our world."

All of them felt their eyes widen, but even Harry could see the benefits of doing so; if those that do not believe in the system do not have a wand nor how to use their magic, there would be no effective rebellion.

•~•~•~•

Over his next few years in Primary School, Harry learnt all he needed to in order to survive in a society filled with purebloods and halfbloods. He learnt that he himself actually had magical parents, a pureblood and a muggleborn, and was thus a halfblood. It was a pity they were on the wrong side of the war and was subsequently killed by the Dark Lord's forces.

Simply thinking about the man made a shiver run down Harry's spine; the man was deadly, beautiful and so very powerful. It was whispered that he had found a way to make himself immortal and ageless, that he needn't eat nor sleep. It was amazing, really, Harry read about how he had led his followers into creating a world that was freer, corruption amongst the powerful was far less rampant and magic was not restricted as it used to. And most importantly, they were far safer, with less and fewer muggles poking their noses into the business of wizards. Harry had deep reverence and fascination with the man.

However, what truly made Harry break out in cold sweat for today was the day of his TALONs. It stood for Test of Ability, Loyalty Or the Noteworthy and he hoped with a fervour that he would be able to get into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for it is the best Wizarding school that exists within Britain.

Harry wrung his hands as he sat outside the examination room and almost jumped when the examiner poked her head out of the room and said, "Mr Potter? We're ready for you now. Come on in."

"This is Veritaserum, Mr Potter, it makes whoever who drinks it unable to speak anything but the truth. This is part of the examination. Do you consent to drinking this?" Harry nodded his head, knowing he had nothing to hide. Except perhaps the fact he played the prank on Justin that made him get a rather large cut on his arm… They administered a couple drops of the potion.

"What is your full name?"

Harry felt an extremely strong compulsion to say the truth before he heard himself say, "Harry James Potter."

"When is your birthday?"

"July 31, 1981"

"Good, the serum is working. Now, Mr Potter, what do you hope to have a career in?"

"I'd like to become a Death Eater, but if I can't, I'll wish to work a position in the ministry."

"So your loyalties lie with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

"What do you think about the way the disloyal are punished?"

"I think they brought it on themselves. It is a good way to curb rebellions and such."

"Earlier you mentioned about hoping to become a Death Eater. Why is that?"

"The Death Eater that saved me from the muggles inspired me."

A few more questions were asked before the examiner nodded, spoke with her fellow examiner and administered the antidote, before saying, "Now before you go, you will have to swear an oath of loyalty to the Dark Lord. I will spell out the oath, just read it out, Mr Potter,"

"I, Harry James Potter, swear to my allegiance and loyalty to the Dark Lord Voldemort until the day my magic dies, so mote it be." A brilliant flash of light encompasses Harry before it faded.

"Now, this oath will not kill you or take your magic away if you break it knowingly, it will cause you pain akin to the _Cruciatus Curse_ , which I do not believe you would want to experience. Now, do proceed to the next room, there you will undertake your magical abilities test."

AN: I hope you guys liked it J I'll be posting more! Also, please do read The Courtesan by Drops of Nightshade, do check it out and it also inspired some parts of the story! Feel free to review if you have questions.


	2. Chapter 2: New School

AN: please read A/N at bottom!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

•~•~•~•

The results of the test came soon after.

TEST OF ABILITY, LOYALTY OR THE NOTEWORTHY I

(TALONs I)

NAME OF CANDIDATE: HARRY J. POTTER

AGE (as of 1st Sep 1990): 10

MAGICAL INSTITUTION: BPSMM

BlOOD STATUS: Halfblood

Passing grades:

Outstanding: O

Exceeding Expectations: E

Acceptable: A

Failing grades:

Poor: P

Dreadful: D

Troll: T

ABILITIES TEST RESULTS:

Wizarding Culture: E

Wizarding Traditions: E

Basic Wizarding History: O

Basic Wand Handling: O

Basic Magic: O

LOYALTY TEST RESULTS:

TESTED AND FOUND LOYAL, OATH TAKEN

Testers: Faustine H. Banks and Quentin Evanders

NOTEWORTHY LOYALTY AND ABILITIES IN MAGIC AND THEORY

DESIGNATED SCHOOL: HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Enclosed is the list of things needed for your education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry was exceptionally happy; he was going to Hogwarts! Harry glance over at Hermione's paper and saw that she too would be attending Hogwarts with him. Their happy moment was broken by the knowledge that none of their other friends would be joining them. Seamus and Justin had both been accepted into Aragane Institute, whilst Dean and Lavender had been put into Egladus School, which accepted mediocre ability and those with developing magical aptitude. Thankfully, none of them had been found to be disloyal to the Dark Lord. Harry shuddered thinking about the consequences. But once again, his thoughts went back to his acceptance.

He was finally going to Hogwarts!

•~•~•~•

Mrs Hogan had brought the two of them out to Diagon Alley in order to purchase the things needed for their first year at Hogwarts. After spending an inordinate amount of time at Flourish and Blotts, she had managed to drag them off the Ollivander's to get their new personal wands. After having used training wands for the past few years, they were both understandably extremely excited.

Mr Ollivander had appeared in his same unusual way, scaring the living daylights out of them both. And after his display of flying measuring tapes and all, he spoke, "well, Ms Granger, ladies first." After a while, Hermione stood happily at the side with her 10¾ inches vine wood wand with a dragon heartstring in its core.

Harry took a long time. Very long time.

"Ah, here we are, Mr Potter, holly, phoenix feather core, 11 inches precisely. Very curious…"

"Sorry, but what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter. I remember your parents' wands, your caretaker's wand and even our very own Dark Lord's. It is curious, young Mr Potter, that the phoenix that gave your wand its feather, gave just one other. Yes, 13½ inches, yew, phoenix feather, the Dark Lord's wand. It is indeed curious that you are destined for its brother wand. Your destinies may very well be entwined." Harry couldn't bring himself to react and he was glad that Mrs Hogan and Hermione had chosen to wait outside the shop. He didn't know how they'd react to such news.

•~•~•~•

1st September had finally come after a much too long a wait, in Harry's opinion. But on that day, he was finally boarding the Hogwarts Express to his new school!

They quickly found an empty compartment and claimed it, putting their backpacks and trunks into the small room.

"What house do you think you'll be in Hermione?"

"Well, I really want to be in Slytherin; it's the Dark Lord's house you know! But I think I'm more suited to Ravenclaw."

"I want to be in Slytherin too!" Harry replied eagerly.

They discussed a little more about Hogwarts and all sorts of topic and not long after they had both fallen asleep, did an announcement ring out, "we will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station in 5 minutes, please leave your baggage on the train, it will be brought straight to your dorm."

When they got off the train, the first thing they heard was a male voice calling out, "First years, over here, please!"

When there was a group of about 25 students, the man led them towards the lake, where there were five rather large boats drifting on the water.

"No more than five to a boat, please. We don't want it to capsize." Hermione and Harry got onto one boat, which they shared with a pair twins and a boy.

The boats started moving and then, they saw it, Hogwarts' grandeur amazed even the aristocratic first years, and they oohed and ahhed. When they finally reached shore on the other side, they were led in through a ginormous entrance and into a magnificent hallway. It was there when the male that lead then there, spoke.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School. I am Professor Amycus Carrow and I will be your Magical Arts professor. In a moment, you will enter the Great Hall where you will be sorted into the four houses. They are Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Your triumphs will earn you points, whilst any rule breaking will result in a deduction of points. Your house will be your family for seven years; I suggest you be on friendly terms with your housemates. Please wait here and make yourself presentable." He turned and strode off in the direction of the corridor.

"I cannot believe I have to attend a school with mudbloods. I should get Father to ban all of this filth from the school!" Exclaimed a blond boy imperiously. There were a few murmurs of agreement, and also a few wide-eyed stares, likely coming from the muggleborns.

"Silence," the room fell deafeningly silent, "follow me."

They were brought into the Great Hall where in the centre was a stool with a dirty hat sitting on it. It opened a seam and began singing.

(Adapted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by JK. Rowling)

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folks use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song.

"When I call your name, come forward and put the hat on. Abbott, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" There was resounding applause from the table at the far left. After a while, it came, "Granger, Hermione!"

"RAVENCLAW!" A few more students were sorted.

"Malfoy, Draco!" The blond boy that called muggleborns mudbloods and wanted them banned sauntered forward confidently and before the hat even touched his head, it shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!" The table on the far right applauded brilliantly.

"Potter, Harry!" Harry walked up hesitantly and sat on the stool, the hat slowly lowered onto his head.

"Well, what do we have here? You're extremely loyal, that's for sure, Hufflepuff would suit you well. You have a thirst for learning and knowledge, You'll most definitely have friends in Ravenclaw house. You could fit Gryffindor as well, you're brave and willing to put your life on the line if it means accomplishing a greater good. But you do not want that, do you? You want to have gone to the same house as the Dark Lord himself, yet you do not like the blond boy, hmm? And you do not want to leave your friend either. Where to put you?"

Harry thought long. Did he want to be in the same house as someone like Draco Malfoy? Did he want to leave Hermione? But he knew he had plenty of ambition and cunning to spare and it was the house for him. Of course, the added bonus of being able to proclaim that he had gone to the same house as the ruler of Wizarding Britain…

"Slytherin eh? Never thought a Potter would want to be put in Slytherin! Well, if you're sure?"

'Yes,' Harry spoke in his head.

"SLYTHERIN!" There was applause from the Slytherin table while the rest of the school gave polite claps. Harry slipped in beside a boy called Theodore Nott, opposite one Pansy Parkinson.

Headmaster Snape stood up after everyone had finished their meal and gave a brief and curt speech, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. You will be warned that the Dark Forest is out-of-bounds to all students. Any rule-breaking will result in severe consequences, which I do not believe any of you will enjoy. Prefects, please lead your house back to the dormitories."

"First years, follow me!" They were led down corridors, down staircases, more corridors, pass many statues before they finally stopped at a blank wall.

"Alright, this is the entrance to our common room. The password is currently 'Belladonna', and it will change once every two weeks. Do be updated, there may not always be someone to save you should you be trapped outside."

They entered the common room, trailing after the two prefects.

"I'm Gemma Farley and this here is Graham Montague. We are your fifth year prefects. Our head of house is Professor Horace Slughorn and he teaches Potions. Allow me to remind you that our house is very prestigious, being the house of the Dark Lord, and we will not tolerate any embarrassment to Slytherin house. Remember that any problem within Slytherin house is to stay within the confines of the common room." Their eyes swept over the crowd of first years.

"Your trunks and everything you've brought have already been placed inside your dormitories. I suggest you all get some sleep, your classes start tomorrow."

•~•~•~•

Harry didn't know what he had expected, entering a house with reputation to spare. A house that has been said was exclusively for purebloods.

He didn't know why he hadn't expected problems to arise, with the knowledge of his halfblood status.

From the beginning, the first year Slytherins had already formed into different cliques: Draco Malfoy leading a band of select children with associations with the Dark Lord or Death Eaters. Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini and of course, who could forget, Pansy Parkinson, the leech that Malfoy could not get rid of. She has, from what Harry could see, some sort of delusion that they are going to get married some day.

Theodore Nott was a curiosity; he did not join any of the gangs formed, he was a loner, floating around from group to group. He was even cordial with Harry, whom as a halfblood, was considered beneath him. There was nothing beyond the polite but meaningless nods of acknowledgement or the occasional smile in greeting, for he too could not afford to be alienating himself from Malfoy's clique; his father was the Dark Lord's right-hand man after all.

Then there was the girls' group, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. And no matter how desperate things got, Harry will refuse to hang around them. He's a boy, after all.

And thus, Harry was a loner. Not by choice, but rather a lack of options. Of course, Harry still had Hermione, but could he count on Ravenclaw and Slytherin house being joined in every single one of his classes? He, after all, already knows that they only three share classes, namely Magical Arts, Flying and Transfiguration.

However, the worst of it did not come until until three weeks into the school year. Malfoy's gang had not done anything outwardly hostile to Harry, but one could sense the animosity radiating from the group of five. however , the thinly-veiled hatred between them was shattered and the loathing came spewing out one day.

It was after Potions class, they were learning how to concoct a Forgetfulness Potion. Harry worked fast and efficiently, for he knew that all his class grades would contribute to whether he will be able to continue in Hogwarts after his second year. He already had quite a bit of favour with Professor Slughorn for having managed to answer any questions he had asked him in class, despite having been raised by muggles.

Harry ignored Malfoy's pompous boasting of the fact that he had been tutored in Potions by Headmaster Snape, and when Professor Slughorn had exclaimed at his desk, "Oh, well done, Mr Potter for having such a well-brewed potion! 20 points to Slytherin!" whilst having simply said, "Not bad, Mr Malfoy," for the blond scion. Understandably, Malfoy was seething at Harry.

Upon having returned to their common room after lunch, Harry found the group lounging on the black couches scattered in the middle of common room. The fireplace casted an eerie glow on the room and normally, Harry would have walked past them without much mind, but with five pairs of eyes fixated on his every move, his instincts told him to stop. Seeing that he had Harry's attention, Malfoy stood up and glared at Harry.

"Do you know who I am, Potter?" He drawled with a practiced ease. Harry didn't answer.

"Since you're unable to answer such a simple question, let me make it plain as day for you, Potter. I am a Malfoy. And thus, in our ruler's favour. Do not cross us. Clear?"

Harry wanted to argue. Why is it that as a halfblood, he was below them? Not as good as the purebloods? He has seen Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson's work and performance in classes before and he can conclusively state that they were far worse than he. Regardless, his few weeks in a Slytherin environment has taught him self-preservation, and he nodded mutely. Malfoy seemed satisfied with his silent admission that they were better than him, and gestured for the rest to leave for the Transfiguration classroom.

Harry groaned in frustration the second the entrance became a blank wall once more. Perhaps he should have gone to Ravenclaw instead. At least Hermione did not seem miserable. He quickly gathered his things and made his way out the common room. He had a class to attend and he was going to be late.

•~•~•~•

AN: I probably won't be able to update so quickly again, I had half of it done when I uploaded the first chapter. But do let me know if you prefer quicker updates but shorter chapters or slower updates with longer chapters, and also feel free to note down any questions or feedback or mistakes you've spotted in a review/pm! Thanks for reading! ~kuvyyra


	3. Chapter 3: New Friend

AN: Sorry for not posting for such a long while :( I'm in the middle of exam period screams... I think we can expect weekly updates though!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

•~•Chapter 3•~•

Harry found that he enjoyed contemplating the meaning of his existence when he is down. Perhaps it's just his twisted sense of wallowing in self-pity.

The animosity between the pureblood party and Harry had not died down; in fact, it has increased tenfold if anything. It consisted of simple things such as Malfoy wrinkling his nose when he walked into the room, saying, "Did you smell that?" He would look up, feign shock and gasp, "Oh, the filthy blood is polluting the room! Let's leave, we might catch something."

And it went to hexes and jinxes being thrown at him in his part of his dorm. He had resorted to using simple wards he had learnt to make in the library after he found someone cursed the room to make a deafening amount of noise, ranging from the loud chatter of the Great Hall during meals to pronounced slurs to his blood status. He had gotten virtually no sleep that night.

It was their first flying lesson and Harry was unbelievably excited, and absolutely petrified. For steady can a rickety broom be so many metres up in the air? What was to happen should he fall down? On the bright side of things, it was one of the few classes he shared with the Ravenclaws, or more specifically, Hermione. It was likely she was the only friend he had at Hogwarts. He couldn't really call Theodore Nott a friend; neither could he call any of the friends Hermione had made in her house his own either.

The thought was rather sobering; he had come to Hogwarts with high hopes of making it through to graduation happily, but it seems he has rather missed that chance by wishing to be in the house of pureblood supremacy. What was he, as a halfblood orphan with parents who died disgraced, on the wrong side of the war, to do in this society, with no connections, no worthy allies, but uncountable, untouchable adversaries?

Harry made his way down to the Quidditch pitch after the bell signalled. He had previously heard Malfoy boasting that he has been flying on broomsticks since he was six and had the latest Nimbus 2000 at home. He did not look forward to another lesson with Malfoy which constituted listening to his egotistical yapping.

•~•~•~•

"No, not like that boy, your grip is all wrong!" Madam Hooch exclaimed incredulously.

"But I've been doing this all my life!" exclaimed the blond's indignant, haughty voice.

"Then you've been doing it wrong all your life!" Harry turned his head to snigger quietly at Malfoy after he muttered, "bloody old hag". And when Madam Hooch complimented his grip in front of the whole class, he grinned broadly until he saw the boy glaring daggers at him, after which he schooled his expression into one of neutrality.

They flew around the pitch for a while, in which Malfoy trailed annoyingly close to him. He tried to swerve around the boy and his companions until suddenly, he felt his broom shake, like someone flying at high speeds beside him, and then, as he was distracted, a broom came up next to him and before he could even get a good view of which it was, large hands shoved him off his Cleansweep broom.

The moment was surreal; he heard screams of students and he thanked himself at the moment for choosing not to fly too high above the ground. He landed with a rather loud thud and an agonising pain shot through his left arm and leg which he had landed on. He groaned at the pain, and tried to shift his position to relief some of the ache. Madam Hooch ambled over and ordered him not to move. She levitated him before saying to the class that they would be expelled faster than one could say "Quidditch" if caught flying without adult supervision.

Madam Hooch strode purposefully through the many hallways and corridors of Hogwarts before she deposited him on a bed in the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey was introduced by the flying instructor. They spoke briefly before the matron cast a diagnostic spell on him. She sighed and clicked her tongue in disapproval. She tapped his arm with her wand and muttered, "Ferula". There was a strange tingling sensation before the pain subsided. The same was felt through his left leg as she casted the spell.

"Well then, Mr Potter, you're free to go. Do not engage in strenuous physical activity for the next week. The spell simply accelerates the process, your bones are still in the midst of healing and running around may cause intense pain." Harry nodded at the stern gaze before he turned away with "thank you", leaving for his common room.

When Harry walked into his dorm, he quite literally almost ran into the purebloods. They had a terribly insincere smile on their faces.

"Hello, Potter. What say you to a little duel to see who the better wizard is? No seconds, nothing deadly. If you win, we will let you hang with us."

"And if I lost?" There was always a catch.

"Oh, just beating you up would be reward enough, Potter." Harry was almost entirely certain it was a trap, but perhaps, his ego and pride won out.

"Challenge accepted." Harry didn't know what he had just agreed to, but it was far too late to back out of anything.

"Glad you agreed, Potter. I'll meet you at, say the Trophy Room on the fourth floor at midnight, tomorrow. It's always unlocked and we wouldn't want to disturb our fellow housemates."

Harry nodded and couldn't help but feel exceptionally foolish as he he watched the gang strut off with Malfoy in the lead.

•~•~•~•

Perhaps an underlying part of Harry wanted desperately to be included, no longer the halfblood outcast of Slytherin, scorned by his fellows, but the young mind of Harry Potter had only registered his need to ensure his pride and dignity remain intact. It was thus looked through once more an array of spell books he had previously read or skimmed through in an attempt to find spells useful for him in his inevitable duel with Malfoy. He may be impulsive on occasion, but he was not imbecilic; Malfoy must have knowledge of magical arts that can definitely be classified as extensive for a first year, for after all, he had grown up in such an environment. His parents were known to be relatively a relatively powerful wizard and witch.

Harry, on the other hand, had been in Wizarding Britain for all but a little over two years. Though he had read book upon book for knowledge, there were just some things muggle-raised and muggleborn children just will not know or understand until much later on. Harry groaned in the privacy of his bedroom. Why in Merlin's name had he accepted Malfoy's challenge to a duel? It was an open invitation for Harry to be humiliated and crushed by the blond scion and Harry had accepted it graciously. He had not thought through it at all, and now he would pay the price.

At 11.45, Harry had attempted to cast a disillusionment charm. He would not name the attempt successful, for even he could see the slight ripples in the background as he walked back and forth in front of the mirror in his bathroom. When he tried to study himself closely in the mirror, he even noticed several strands of hair that were still floating above his concealed body. He shrugged it off; the hallways would be dark and he was after all a first year, he could safely bet that there were still some of his year mates that were unable to cast a proper levitation spell. He unconsciously glanced in the direction of Crabbe and Goyle's dorm as he rationalised his thoughts.

He cast a quick Tempus and found it to be 11.51. Malfoy was nowhere to be found and thus Harry assumed him to have ventured forth to the Trophy Room. He opened the entrance to the Common Room from within and left in search of the fourth floor corridor.

He arrived at the entrance of the Trophy Room at exactly 11.59; however, a certain pale faced pureblood was not in sight. Harry glanced around and did not know why it didn't occur to him that there would be trophies in a Trophy Room. He walked up to the biggest, gold shields in the room, casting a quick Lumos.

Special Award for Services to the School

Tom M. Riddle

Harry hummed at the name. It didn't sound like a pureblood one, and he wondered what Tom Riddle had done to obtain this award. Harry moved on quickly, finding a few plaques on the wall with the headings of Head Boy and Head Girl.

Once again, Harry saw the name Tom Riddle on the list. Moving further down the list, he found one James Potter. Harry felt his eyes widen. Potter? Could he be related to this man? He was certainly an appropriate age to be Harry's father. Before Harry could continue his searching, he heard clearly, "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

He hurriedly whispered Nox and in his panic, he almost dropped his wand. He snuck quietly to the door and thanked Merlin he was going slow, for Mrs Norris, the cat, was right in the doorway. It seemed to stare right at him and for a moment, Harry had worried his disillusionment charm had worn off. Harry quite literally sagged him relief when Mrs Norris strolled right past him into the Trophy Room, and made his quick escape.

In his rush and paranoia, Harry had simply brisk walked in any direction he could go in, whilst constantly looking back, just in case Filch and the cat was on his trail. It was for this reason that Harry smacked headlong into a wall right after walking through a small doorway; a wall that happened to feel masculine and radiated heat and magic. Oh, the magic was exquisitely strong. Harry's head whipped around to see a tall, hooded man. He did not look like any of the teachers.

"I had expected someone under a disillusionment charm to be more careful when walking around. I had thought you would move out of my way." Seeing as he was caught, Harry feebly cancelled the charm and watched as the rest of his body slowly began surfacing.

"I really should report you to Severus. I wonder what kind of creative punishments he would come up with." Harry, frozen with fear, didn't say a word.

"Just what is a young little Slytherin like you doing out of bed at this time, hmm?"

Not wanting to risk being brought to the Headmaster's office for attempting to have a duel on top of being caught out after curfew, Harry blurted out the first thing that came to mind without much thought.

"I sleepwalk!" Only then did Harry truly realise just how ridiculously implausible it was.

"Do you normally go to sleep under a disillusionment charm, then?" Harry blushed at the gaping hole in his lie, hoping the room was dark enough for the man to not be able to see his embarrassment.

"Just how old are you? You're smaller than I had imagined." Harry bristled at the comment; his height was always quite a sensitive issue to him.

"I'm in my first year." He announced with an indignant tone.

"You're powerful. I know not many 11 year olds that can perform a disillusionment charm at all."

Harry flushed at the praise. He hadn't received any compliments in a while. Feeling slightly more encouraged, Harry plucked up the courage to make conversation.

"I've never seen you around before… Are you a, you know… Death Eater?" It was common knowledge that Death Eaters or occasionally, the Dark Lord would grace the halls of Hogwarts. However, Harry was most certain Headmaster Snape had not said a word about this occurrence solely because he enjoyed seeing the students suffer.

"You could say that…" the man had replied cryptically. He moved towards the end of the room they were in. It was only then did Harry have a chance to properly calibrate where he was in the school. It was the South Tower, near Classroom 98 where his Transfiguration classes were held. Harry watched as the man lowered his hood and through the darkness, he could make out the pale white skin, dark hair, defined nose and dark eyes. The eyes were extremely alluring, almost aas if they were glowing with a tinted hue he could not quite make out in the darkness. He turned to face Harry.

"Will you tell me the truth then, you can trust me," Harry wanted to trust him, like a friend, but the patronising tone in which it was said made Harry weary of the man.

"No…" He saw sharp eyebrows rise on the man's face, a light smirk dusting his lips, before his eyes narrowed slightly.

"A wise choice, little Slytherin. However, you should return to your common room now." It was at that point did he realise he hadn't even obtained the man's name; he had simply referred to him as the man in his mind. Before he could stop himself, the sentence tumbled out of his mouth.

"I haven't got your name yet…" Harry must have caught the man off guard, for he looked contemplative and hesitant for a moment, almost as if he wasn't used to people asking for his name. Then his face contorted into what could best be described as a face one would make when angry. Harry took an involuntary step backwards before stuttering out, "If… if you don't want to tell me… um… it's… alright."

The man sighed and then announced in a resigned tone, "It's… Tom Riddle."

"I saw your name in the Trophy Room! That's so amazing, To-"

"Do not call me by that name." The venom injected into that sentence made Harry freeze.

"Oh… How about Riddle, then?" Harry did not understand why Riddle would give him a name he did not want to be used.

"Better. I shall take my leave now, little Slytherin, I have better things to do than to listen to the mindless yapping of children."

As Harry began trudging back to his common room, the man called for him to stop, before he waved his hand, and Harry felt the familiar sensation of a disillusionment charm taking effect.

"You just did wandless and nonverbal magic!" He gasped in shock at the display of magical prowess.

"I am well aware of that, little serpent." was his dry drawl of a response.

"My name's Harry Potter."

Riddle paused slightly in his stride, glanced at him and said aloofly, "Harry, then."

As he strode quickly away from the South Tower, Lord Voldemort couldn't help but feel confused. Why had he accepted the child's lies with amusement, why had he allowed the child's insolence to slide by and why in Merlin's name had he given the child his real name and permitted its usage? It almost felt as if his very magic was against the thought of hurting the child. He hated being confused and he had to find his answers to one Harry Potter, or someone would more than likely end up dead from his temper.

•~•~•~•

AN: Do review your thoughts! Thanks for reading! ~kuvyyra


	4. Chapter 4: New Knowledge

A/N: I'm disgusting. Who doesn't upload for ten thousand after promising she would? Me. But here it is... enjoy? And if it makes you feel any better, I felt terrible for the whole time :( *smiles a smile more sheepish than Harry*

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

•~•~•~•

Harry made a silent vow that he would pay Riddle back for quite possibly saving him from Filch and Mrs Norris; when he returned to the common room, he was so magically exhausted from using his developing magic to hold a full-body disillusionment charm, however abysmal, for over half an hour he could barely cancel the charm put on by the mysterious man, indeed Riddle was a suitable name for him. He had gone to bed with most of his arms still concealed that night, he just couldn't get his magic to focus and decided a rest was well in order for him.

The next morning, after a freak out having thought his arms have disappeared in his sleep-muddled mind, he had made his way to the Great Hall with a frazzled but otherwise, happy expression, made happier by the incredulous expression on Malfoy's normally composed face. Harry was tempted to wave at Malfoy in an exacerbated manner but controlled himself. He didn't need to make Malfoy angrier, because, despite everything, Malfoy still has the upper hand in terms of connections and respect. He settled for a relaxed grin and sat himself down on his end of the long table and took a piece of toast for his enjoyment.

Harry had already planned out his whole day; he wanted to understand why he'd felt so safe and strangely comfortable around Riddle. He would research in the library for whatever he can find, and he was hoping that it would be a lot. A library that big had to have something he could use, didn't it? And there was also Hermione. He was certain Hermione is great at researching, but he was also certain it would mean he would be interrogated until he was forced to reveal his reasons for his research escapade. He can't risk asking her or anyone.

It's not like he has anyone else to ask for help.

•~•~•~•

When Lord Voldemort had his mind on something, he had a terrifying obsession with finding out every possible known fact there existed.

Thus, it was that Lord Voldemort had found that Harry Potter, the sole heir of James and Lily Potter, two annoying thorns on his side for a majority of the war, lived with muggles. Muggles. When his Death Eaters had gotten around to killing the couple, the war was close to being won by his forces and thus it was declared that every child that was too young to be set in their beliefs was to be spared, in an effort to ensure that Wizarding Britain maintains a sizable population. Sirius Black had been killed in an Auror raid a few months back when a stray curse had taken his life. With no godfather left, Harry was brought to his next immediate family, the Dursleys, by Albus Dumbledore. Simply thinking of the man made his blood boil.

However, the momentary anger was satiated by the thought which followed; he had killed the aged wizard in a fierce duel, which had also resulted in the scattering and disbanding of the Order of the Phoenix. Since then, the once powerful organisation has disintegrated into small cells that caused the occasional problem for him and his Death Eaters. Most known members, however, were captured and either executed or turned into the first batch of servants in the new world.

Those that still roam free around Europe are currently posing a threat and have been quite the annoyance. It would seem that Dumbledore, before his inevitable death, had left clues to Moody and their happy band of sickeningly righteous felons, regarding his horcruxes. There have been a few breaches of security at Gringotts bank, or specifically, Bellatrix's vault where Hufflepuff's goblet and one of his horcruxes were kept. He had taken it upon himself to ensure the safety and security of all his horcruxes, and the diadem in the Room of Hidden Things was simply the last of the lot. He had visited that day and moved it to a much more secure location and placed enchantments on it to remedy his arrogant overlooking of placing protections on a vassal of his soul in his youth.

On his way to the Headmaster's office to use the Floo, he had quite literally run into the boy. The boy was under a rather deplorable disillusionment charm, but one had to bear in mind he was a first-year. He is fairly certain that, at least in his time, most of his classmates could barely levitate an object properly. He, of course, had ensured he knew not only how to execute the Levitation Charm perfectly, but to read ahead, way ahead. By the end of his tenure as a first year, he had likely known more spells than the average sixth year.

Harry's magic was, in short, incredible. It called and beckoned his magic and he felt for once, at peace with himself. He couldn't understand why he found himself so unable to do anything to the boy. Why he was not able to put the boy in his place, watch him pale and the horror, fear and awe to surface on his face as he revealed his identity. Instead, he had told him his filthy muggle name. He had left quickly, desperate to commence his research; for Lord Voldemort absolutely despised being confused and thus, was did everything he could to find out more about both this new experience and the boy.

He worked tirelessly and found what could be the most accurate description of what he had felt: Compatible magical cores. They were certainly uncommon, but not unheard of. It is often that the pair that has compatible cores with each other have wands that are brothers, or even twins in the rarest occasion. It is common that the two may have similar upbringings. Power levels of the pair are almost always at approximately the same level, both being relatively high, superior to the average wizard.

First meetings usually result in the two to feel attracted to the other's magic and would develop a sense of protectiveness to each other. They would find themselves unable to have a desire to harm one another, further cemented by the fact that most people with compatible magical cores have brother wands.

Now, the question of keeping in contact with the boy had to be addressed. He knew he could simply summon the boy to him; he was, after all, Lord Voldemort and no one in their right mind would dare try to stop him. But he soon came to the realisation that perhaps he needed a break from all the sycophantic behaviour of his subjects. Young Harry Potter was the first person in likely decades that didn't know who he was, and thus did not fawn all over him, and though to a certain degree, he relished in it but could get rather tiring.

Perhaps it was time to let fate lead the way, meddling every now and then. He would willingly admit to himself that he was very much a control freak, but wouldn't it be fun to watch young Potter creep slowly to the realisation. His lips twitched upwards at the thought. The boy seemed intelligent, not even falling for his little declaration that he was trustworthy as an eleven-year-old. The sooner he realised who he was, the better, it would help with "trust-building". He scoffed lightly at that.

For now, he will get Severus to update him on all the students, inclusive of first years, which isn't unusual for him, he did ask for any extraordinary students within the cohort as potential Death Eaters, despite Severus' usual flippant dismissal of the bunch as 'conceited dunderheads' or 'squeamish, naive imbeciles', before providing him with a file, accompanied by snide remarks which he let slide for his competence and service to him. It would be the most discreet way to get to Harry Potter for now.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait until next week for he had more pressing matters to attend to, namely the annoying cells of former Order of the Phoenix members that are causing some trouble for him in London.

•~•~•~•

Harry spent the most part of his Saturday in the library. He browsed through any books he could find about magical theory and magic's effects on his body, mind, emotions, anything! And barely an iota of relevant information could be found. He found bizarre rituals (one that included hugging a bathing yourself in a venom of some sort), soul magic and even tried his own textbooks out of desperation. Nothing.

He sat there for a while, not quite knowing what to do. He could ask Riddle, or Tom, as he would like to call him. It made him feel less lonely. But he didn't want him to think he was stupid after his small praise of the night before. No, he was determined to find out himself. Harry felt a wave of dread and despair wash over him. Perhaps he was biting off more than he could chew. Forcing himself to think optimistically, Harry thought about how impressed Tom may be when he discovers that Harry had done such research and found out what all this was about all by himself. He let a small smile grace his lips and set off for the shelves of the endless library. He dwelled not on the evidence of the failed attempts on the table to occupied, but on the fact that there were countless of shelves still not explored.

By the time he was kicked out of the library half an hour before curfew, Harry had found one scrap of information that might be useful. It was some sort of curious soul bond that describes some of what he had been feeling, only one thing didn't add up; it has only been known to happen between a male and a female. And Harry was certain he was absolutely male, thank you very much, so unless Tom had lied about his name, and had a sort of spell to change his appearance, glamour or something, as mentioned in passing by Professor Flitwick, he was back to square one.

When he wandered back to his common room entrance and uttered the password he nearly smacked straight into the blank wall.

They had changed the password. And he didn't know what it was.

Harry felt his heart starting to race. He spoke the password again, hoping that by some miracle, the insentient wall would take pity on him and let him through. It didn't, of course. He contemplated going to Professor Slughorn's office but it was late, and he doubted Professor Slughorn wouldn't mind an interruption to his work or rest, whatever he may say to reassure Harry. His best bet now was to hope that someone else had been outside the common room and hear the password from him or her.

Curfew was just four minutes away and still, no Slytherins were to be seen in the corridors of the dungeons. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of having to spend the night in the corridor, but his thoughts were interrupted by the commotion that was the prefects leaving for their patrol duty. He surged to his feet and walked briskly towards the group, ignoring the pang of fear that seized him at the thought of facing the intimidating group of fifth to seventh years alone, being a tiny first year himself. They all turned to stare him down and one of the burly boys started in an interrogatory voice, "It's almost curfew; what're you doing out?"

"I… I don't know the new p-password," Harry muttered sheepishly in reply. He ducked his head down upon hearing a few scattered sighs of exasperation.

"Maybe we should just leave him. Let him know the consequences of not checking the passwords," Harry blanched at the suggestion.

"Slytherins look out for their own, Montague," admonished the most senior looking girl with a shining head girl badge, "the password is 'Acromantula', and I expect you would check for new passwords from now on. Don't count on our pity or generosity, and your luck to get in." Harry thanked her in a small voice and slinked away just in time to see her nod imperiously, before gesturing for her fellow prefects to leave for their patrol duty.

The wall finally made way to the long missed entrance of the Slytherin common room, the calming green of the room and the sense of relief washing over him as if he were under the rushing streams of the water from the lake to the walls of his common room. He let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding and made his way up to his dorm room.

He barely had a breather before he saw Malfoy and his gang minus Pansy surrounding the small space right after the entrance of the boys' dormitory. Harry would've missed the momentary look of surprise on Malfoy's face if he had blinked.

"Well, Potter, thank Merlin you knew the password, I would hate to know one of my fellow Slytherin year mates had to spend a night in the cold, dark corridors of the dungeons. We were all waiting for you, you know," he said sardonically with his customary imperious, condescending smirk.

"Nice to know," was all Harry deigned to reply them with; he was dead on his feet, and he couldn't be bothered to grace their presences with more than a tired reply and a look of resignation. He heard their sniggering in the background and ignored the annoyance and indignation he truly felt, forcing his feet to trudge forward to the bathrooms for a quick shower, a brush of his teeth and finally, his long-awaited sleep.

Even in his sleep, he could not escape his thought and that night, he dreamt of meeting Tom again.

A/N: Okay honestly this chapter is kinda just a filler, hopefully more exciting things to come, yes? Review :) ~kuvyyra


	5. Chapter 5: New Revelations (I)

AN: Yay new chapter:)

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Harry had quite literally given up on his search for answers. His conscience derived exceptional glee from reminding him of how much of a failure he was; he had vowed he would find the answers himself, no outside intervention at all, yet here he was. His head was resting on the cold table in the library; his hands sprawled at his side and a quiet sigh leaving his lips, reverberating on the small mountain of books he had brought to his table over the course of the hour.

With a sigh, he picked up the book on top: Window to the Soul: A Collection of Soul Bonds, Rituals and Spells, 17th Edition. Not long after, a shadow fell over him and he turned around to see-

"What're you reading? That doesn't look like it is a part of our syllabus," Hermione murmured and she forcefully flipped the thick tome he held to its cover. "Soul magic? Why're you reading about soul magic? I mean, it's great that you're reading, but really?"

"It's just interest, Hermione, I can read…"Harry mumbled back, feeling slightly insulted that Hermione thought so lowly of his love of knowledge. Harry groaned in frustration after flipping through a few pages of the book in hand. Only after the sound had escaped him did he realise what a mistake that was.

"Are you looking for something specific, Harry?" Hermione asked suspicion laced to every syllable and her eyes narrowed. Harry closed the book and put it down and folded his arms before resting them on the table, his head soon joining the mass of body parts. He tilted his head to look at the Ravenclaw but didn't answer her question.

"You are, aren't you? What is it? Maybe I can help you, I am quite good at researching, you know," Once again, she found no answer from Harry. She prodded him again but had only a shake of his head as a reply.

"Don't you trust me, Harry James Potter? Well, I would've helped you, knowing that these types of magic are extremely easy to mistake and assume for something else, but since you're avoiding me, I guess I'll do the same too!" Hermione whispered harshly. She may have been angry but she was still very much conscious of the fact that they were in a library.

"'Mione, wait-" Hermione's shadow had already disappeared and Harry let out a weary breath.

Don't dwell on that, think about how proud Tom would be when he knows you have gone through so much trouble to research yourself, the voice inside his head was bothering him again. Yet, Hermione's words struck a chord deep within him. Why was he so convinced that Tom would even see him again? Why was he so convinced that what he felt was not just a result of a combination of fatigue, adrenaline and some sort of magical backlash that happens with anyone and everyone? If this kind of magic was so easy to mistake, could it just have been a coincidence? Harry sat up suddenly with those thoughts, causing his chair to tip up before scraping harshly against the wooden floor, earning more than a few glares from around. Eyes wide, Harry could barely be bothered to grace their presence with an embarrassed ducking of his head or a contrite smile. His thoughts took precedence.

How did he get so carried away, so obsessed? In fact, now that he thought about it, there were more than a few things that didn't add up about Tom. According to the plaque in the Trophy Room, Tom Riddle was head boy from 1944 to 1945, which would make him out to be in his sixties by now. Tom had sounded and acted every bit a man in his mid-twenties to early-thirties.

And his evasive attitude when he had asked Riddle if he was a Death Eater.

What if he was just a creepy old man under a… what was it called? A Glamour charm? How wonderful, Hermione hates me and Riddle… is a riddle Harry thought rather bitterly. He stood up to return his books to the shelf, packed up his quill and parchment, gathering it all up into his sling bag. With that, he set off for his common room, and a pang of fear hit him; hopefully Malfoy hasn't thought of a way to change the password before two weeks have come to pass. He had to get back to the common room on time too; there is an organised guided historical tour of Diagon Alley as part of their history of magic curriculum and he did not want to miss it. It would, after all, be his second time going to that wonderful place.

He only dreaded going there with his housemates as company. And he doubted the Gryffindors would be particularly friendly to a member of the house of serpents. Hermione had already gone with her house and Hufflepuff house to the Alley, not that it would make much of a difference, considering she had since promised to avoid him.

•~•~•~•

Severus bowed low when the fireplace flared up and Lord Voldemort had stepped out of the floo system as the green flames died out behind him. He ignored the sudden sharp burst of pain in his left arm from his proximity to the Dark Lord.

"My lord," he intoned carefully; he always refrained from making any sycophantic comments, he knew his lord rather despised excessive fawning, especially from weaklings like Wormtail, his inner voice thought with a sneer.

"Severus, I want files of the first year students," there is never any beating around the bush with his Lord. You will get him what his wants as soon as he wants it, no questions asked, none about his intentions, on the wisdom of his decision, on its reasons or anything in between, lest you meet an excruciating demand of silence. Severus nodded once, murmuring, "Of course, my lord," before he swept from his main office with a quick bow into the adjacent filing room where records of most every student that have ever traversed into the walls of Hogwarts were kept. He retrieved the most recent label, which read _Graduating Class of 1998_ , before handing it to the Dark Lord. The man flipped through the first few names briefly and asked, barely glancing up, "Anyone we should keep an eye on, Severus?"

"Lucius' heir, Draco is at the top of all his classes. He can make a fine addition to your forces, my lord."

"If ever he gets over himself and the hereditary conceit that every Malfoy possesses." Severus knew his Lord had no fondness for his godson and even he could admit that Draco was more than a little arrogant. However, he didn't comment, instead choosing to move on.

"There is a mudblood who lags not far behind young Malfoy in class assignments. Granger, I believe is her name," the Dark Lord made a noncommittal hum of agreement. Severus had come to learn that that meant that he was losing interest. Good; the quicker they ended this impromptu meeting, the better.

"There aren't many noteworthy individuals within this cohort, my lord. As you may be aware, Crabbe has an offspring that has started his year. The only thing noteworthy about him, as is the case for many of the other students, is his stupidity and ability to be thick." Lord Voldemort rolled his eyes with his head down, looking through the file, finally stopping at a certain name.

"I know you hate children, and you I know you hate this one in particular most vehemently _Headmaster_ , but you're to give me the honest feedback for one Harry _James Potter_ ," Severus stiffened almost unnoticeably, but his loathing was clear from the hardening of his dark obsidian eyes. The Dark Lord was surely taunting him, mocking him. In fact, he didn't bother disguise it; it was quite plain as day from the all too insincere smile- no it was a smirk- on his features.

"T-There is nothing much extraordinary about him, my lord. He goes unnoticed in classes, though Slughorn claims him to be, in his words," Severus paused slightly, before saying with a grimace that made Lord Voldemort's grin widen, "brilliant in Potions class. He hasn't many friends. His grades are only slightly above average, my lord. However, I wouldn't deem it unwise to keep a closer watch on him; h-he was born of… a traitor, my lord."

"Not _traitors_ , Severuss?" his sibilant pronunciation of his name caused a shiver to run down Severus's spine and only his stint as a spy stopped him from reacting outright.

"My lord… I-"

"-Still love her?" He shook his head mockingly at Severus, his red eyes glinting with malice and challenge. It was all part of working for the Dark Lord; give in to his demands and manipulations, or fight against him. It was a precarious balancing act; give in too much and he will think you a weak pushover and he will eventually find an end to your uses. Struggle too much and it could be perceived as disloyalty and disobedience; here he had no need for an excuse to end your existence, physically or mentally.

The alarm wards surrounding the headmaster's office informed him of the approach of a Death Eater Grim, saving him from having to answer the Dark Lord, but if the ominous smirk on the perfect features had told him anything, it was that this wouldn't be the end of conversations regarding the woman he loved from his master.

He opened the door with a flick of his wand, revealing a breathless and panicked young man standing at the doorway. Despite having come to deliver a message to the ruler of Wizarding Britain, it seems that his presence has still shocked the boy into a momentary silence. After about two whole seconds, he stuttered out, "S-sir, my l-lord," to Severus and his master. A scowl from both dark wizards launched him into an explanation, "Diagon Alley is under attack from the Order of the Phoenix! I h-have been sent to inform you that Mad-Eye Moody and McGonagall are both present!"

On surface, it almost seemed as if Lord Voldemort was indifferent to the news but the curling of fingers and the vanishing of the traces of malicious humour from his eyes were all telltale signs. Before Severus could do anything, Lord Voldemort whipped around to face him and commanded in a tone that promised retribution should they not be fulfilled or challenged, "Severus, stay behind to fix the wards, do not leave Hogwarts vulnerable to attacks, it could be a diversion tactic for all we know." Without even seeing that he had been heard, he tore through the centuries old wards with a strong burst of dark magic, the strong concentration of magic so close to him caused Severus to take a step back and the Grim to nearly fall over backwards.

Lord Voldemort had vanished with a crack and the wards were in shreds.

Sometimes, Severus truly despised his master.

•~•~•~•

Harry stood at the back of the crowd of first year Gryffindors and Slytherins, next to Professor Megara Tyser, his history of magic professor. He had thought it would be more interesting than this, but regardless, it was still slightly better than sitting through Professor Tyser's class. Harry liked her as a person, but certainly not as a history professor, for she was far too dry. It was quite apparent that the first years were quickly losing interest from the way they began to behave. Malfoy was sharing the story of how he had gone into Knockturn Alley alone and how terrifying the alley was, yet he bravely made it through the place. Some Gryffindor boy was practicing the levitation spell under his breath on a small piece of cobblestone chipped off from the path. Harry watched the pebble intensely to see if his fellow first year would be able to perform the simple charm.

Suddenly, the pebble flew upwards. Harry would have thought it was a successful casting of the spell had it not been for the deafening explosion off not 300 metres away from where they stood. Wizards and witches ran in all directions from the site of the explosion, not unlike ripples in a pond spreading outwards, away from the danger.

Someone shouted, "It's Mad-Eye!" and havoc broke loose amongst the pureblood first years whilst the rest stared around in confusion. The guide and professor could not stop the panicking first years as they ran for whatever cover they could find to protect themselves from the explosions that were progressively coming closer. The crowd pushed and pushed, fear controlling the minds of wizards and witches alike, they moved like herds of spooked animals, threatening to stampede over Harry unless he moved away. Harry knew not which direction he was travelling in with the aimless scattering of people in all directions. He crashed and collided into countless people and he let out a short gasp when someone pulled on his school cloak. Someone enveloped in magic.

"It seems, Harry, you're in dire need of a change of glasses because clearly, you cannot tell that you're running towards the explosions," came the familiar snide voice of Riddle. Harry had never been so relieved to see someone in his life, all qualms about the man's identity and peculiarity gone, he was prepared to tackle him with a hug until he felt a force pinning him down and a dangerously calm voice saying, "Don't you dare," Harry looked up for the first time and saw vibrant garnet eyes staring right back at him. Harry felt his eyes widen at the sight. Another explosion rocked the earth beneath them.

"Get into that shop and do not move until I come to get you, understood?" Riddle had said that so casually Harry almost thought he wasn't in danger, until screams resumed and smoke filled his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Maybe I can-"

"No." Harry suddenly felt no need to help out and then he was on a one-track mind to hide in the shop as Riddle had instructed.

Squatting in a corner of the empty, dilapidated store, Harry had some time to think.

Red eyes, Tom has red eyes. _He_ has red eyes.

Tom was wandering around the school at night. _He_ does not require sleep.

According to the plaque in the Trophy Room, Tom should not look so young, so everlasting. Yet, Harry knew that _He_ is immortal.

Just who had Harry come across that fateful night?

AN: Okay slight cliffhanger, and some LV character development, yes? :) ~kuvyyra


	6. Chapter 6: New Revelations (II)

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**

A small amount of dust was deposited on the floor when the door to the rundown shop Harry was hiding in opened after what felt like an eternity to Harry but was in reality slightly less than an hour. His head shot up to see who had intruded upon his 'peace'. Far from it- his thoughts were rampant with To- Lord- Riddle, his mind had settled for Riddle; a very fitting name for such a mystery.

"I heard you're supposed to acknowledge the presence of someone you know, little snake, or may I know what is so fascinating about that section of wall there? Is it the peeling wallpaper or the small mound of dust that has collected there?" Harry couldn't stop the blush that stained his cheeks, yet he couldn't even bring himself to feel annoyed at the sarcastic remarks that Riddle makes.

Combined with his confusion and identity crisis on behalf of Riddle, Harry could barely form a coherent sentence and only on his fourth try, accompanied by a strangely amused look from the other party, did he manage to get out, "who… who-who are you?"

The slight smile on Riddle's lips disappeared and his expression turned serious. Harry thought he much rather preferred Riddle's sarcastic, scathing-comments side.

"Not bad at all, Harry, you're quite observant for an eleven-year-old," Riddle took out his wand and spelt in the air with fiery letters: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, and with a simple flick of his wrist, they rearranged themselves according to his binding. Harry's eyes shifted from T to O to M before reorienting himself and looked at the final product. He couldn't stop his sharp inhale and he felt something cold grip him; the same cold he felt when he faced his Uncle Vernon's fists when he was angry with something inexplicable.

'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'

Seeing the words made him want to run, as far away from the man in front of him that could make him feel so undeniably at peace with himself. He spared a quick glance at the man in question. He radiated insouciance, displayed so prominently, even to a first-year child barely old enough to hold their own wand, through his eyes, his slightly slouched stance and his casual twirling of his bone white wand; Harry was beside himself with incredulity: how could anyone be so indifferent after such an announcement? It seemed to Harry almost as if he didn't care an at all, which in his young, love-starved mind, equated to him not caring much for Harry. Harry took small steps back, towards the doors and, more importantly, away from Riddle or whatever it is he's supposed to call him now.

"Now, before you plan your grand escape, I have a proposal for you," Riddle didn't even let Harry acknowledge him before he continued.

"Don't think you can run, firstly. I wouldn't let you. Secondly, think of all the trouble you'll be in for running away on an _organised school trip_ , even if there is a reason like this attack. In fact, you were supposed to stay close to your professor. I can't imagine Severus be very lenient on you. I can protect you from anything the school decides to mete out on this lack of discipline," Harry froze in his twitching footsteps towards the door. It's true; the school believes strongly in discipline and in the case of any unexpected event, they were to keep close to a professor. Anyone going wandering will be met with severe consequences. Except perhaps the purebloods, Harry thought snidely, they had their Mommy and Daddy to protect them. Harry shifted his head upwards slowly, his eyes drifted to meet the intense ruby eyes. He felt a strange internal pressure in his skull but passed it off as a delayed reaction in the form of an oncoming headache from the shock of discovering Tom Riddle's true identity.

"Wha-what do you want…? M-my, Lord?" Harry stuttered out the last part as he got reminded of who he was standing before. Riddle looked amused, before he drawled out in conversation, surprising Harry.

"Are you happy at Hogwarts, Harry?"

"What?" Harry repeated gormlessly, thrown off by Riddle's conversation starter.

"Are you happy with your teachers, your classes, your _housemates_?"

Harry may have answered too quickly, "Y-yes! Of cour-"

Before he could even finish that short sentence, he was interrupted, "I asked for your thoughts and answer, Harry, not the politically correct answer. You will come to find it is not a particularly bright idea to lie to me, little snake." Harry was prepared to repeat his evasive answer, but before he could get a word in, he heard, "I know, from personal experience, the kind of condescending, conceited house mate you have. It was the same for me, they have no qualms about shaming you, no thought for your far superior magic, only because of your birth."

Something in Harry broke down at that statement. He understood. _Riddle knew and understood_. His pent up resentment, indignation, humiliation and anger came flooding out after his emotional dam collapsed. "I don't understand why they think they're better than me simply because of their parentage! I think that compared to most of them, I'm much better at magic!" It felt so good to let his true thoughts out, but upon realising just who exactly he had briefly ranted to, he glanced quickly at Riddle, before he muttered sheepishly, "s-sorry…"

"There is no need to apologise for expressing your opinions when asked for them." Despite the reassurance, Harry still seemed very ashamed, perhaps it was the sense of contrition from losing control of his emotions, and letting his anger and pure frustration blind him.

"I think you will come to realise, that we are very similar, Harry. We're both Slytherins, both magically strong, both half-bloods, both muggle-raised orphans," Harry's eyes widened at that comparison, his eyebrows shifting up in shock, as he continued listening to Riddle's comparison of them, "we even look somewhat similar." Riddle adopted a slight smirk at Harry's expression.

"You're an orph-"

"We will dwell on that another time, little snake." He spoke with a tone of finality and severe eyes that Harry dare not argue against.

"You have such potential, Harry; I don't want to see such magical talent go to waste because of your time with inbred imbeciles. I want you under my personal tutelage." Harry, whose jaw was hanging slightly open, closed it with a _click_.

"Is there a catch?" Harry truly wanted to believe that the offer was completely sincere but then again, it sounded too good to be true.

"You're most curious, Harry Potter. I'm sure anything you're disagreeable to in this arrangement can be brought to a compromise, there's nothing in it for me to do anything you do not want."

"I'll… I'll do it," Harry didn't know what he had just gotten himself into, but his heart told him he did the right thing and his magic danced around him happily at his agreement. Riddle grinned like he had just won the lottery, making Harry weary.

"We will finalise this contract on parchment another time, but for now, you need to return to school." His head gestured towards the door, and Harry took a few tentative steps towards it, his head drifting back to Riddle, whom rolled his eyes and made a beeline for the door, catching Harry by the shoulder on his way out and dragging him outside with him.

Harry jumped at the sudden green beam of light that flew into the air and exploded into a shower of green sparks that burned brightly even against the afternoon sun. He turned towards Riddle, who answered his question without sparing a glance at him.

"Death Eaters, they've been looking for you." Harry followed Riddle's line of sight to spot someone in dark robes, seeming to suck most of the light out of the surrounding. Harry wondered if that design was intentional.

"Where did the green sparks come from?"

"Signals, Harry. So no one else wastes any more time trying to find a person that has been found." Harry muttered an 'Oh', slightly embarrassed. Riddle chuckled at his small blunder. With his arm still wrapped around Harry and his hands clutching his shoulder, Riddle guided Harry towards the cluster of black-clad Hogwarts first years and a frantically pacing Professor Tyser.

"Mr Potter!" Professor Tyser looked quite ready to break into a sprint towards Harry. Only stopping in her strides when she realised the lofty company Harry had beside him. She broke into a shaky curtsy, mumbling a quick, but reverent, "My Lord".

"I hope the security of the students would be a priority soon, Miss Tyser. I fear your vigilance has been lacking." Riddle murmured in a dangerously calm voice, his words barely audible, but it carried its impact. His next words, however, were inaudible to Harry, but whatever he said certainly unsettled Professor Tyser, judging by her wide-eyed, profuse profession of gratitude towards Riddle.

"What did you say to her?" Harry blurted out, his curiosity winning over his respect for the privacy of others.

"I don't believe that is your business, little snake." Despite the narrowed eyes, Harry didn't think Riddle was actually angry. "You should return to school. I'll see you again when we do." Harry nodded at the suggestion… order, really.

"D-do thank your Lord, Mr Potter," came the Professor's shaky voice. Harry started at those words; he hadn't even thanked Riddle yet.

"Thank you… my lord…" he still was slightly shocked at the true identity of Tom Riddle. However, he barely graced Harry's gratitude, instead striding towards a Death Eater a distance down the alleyway.

•~•~•~•

When Harry had stepped into the Great Hall, a few heads turned and whispered to their fellows around them, but a sudden mop of bushy brown hair assaulted him. Hermione hugged him fiercely before letting go.

"Harry! I was so worried; I thought I'd never see you again! I thought I'd never been able to apologise for what happened in the library!" She paused awkwardly, "I'm sorry… it was very immature of me, I-"

"'Mione, you don't need to apologise. Besides, what's the fuss about?" Hermione responded by shoving the thin newspaper at him, telling him that it came in during lunch. Harry first stared at the moving picture of the Dark Lord in action immediately after the byline, fighting a group of three men. He shook himself out of his momentary daze, moving on to read the rest of the paper.

 ** _THE DAILY PROPHET: SPECIAL EDITION_**

 ** _24 SEPTEMBER 1991_**

 _ATTACK ON DIAGON ALLEY: 7 DEAD, 23 INJURED AND 12 MISSING_

 _By: Terrance Jinson_

 _DIAGON ALLEY- An attack at the popular shopping hot spot has rocked the Wizarding Community. A series of magical explosions shook the Alley early this afternoon. This is believed to be caused by an organisation calling themselves the 'Order of the Phoenix'. Seven witches and wizards are deceased, 23 are reported injured and 13 are yet to be found._

 _17 magical explosions have been recorded following investigations by the DEFence (Death Eater Forces for Defence), and six individual magical signatures belonging to unregistered persons have been detected at the site of the explosions, which experts believe is caused by the spell 'Animi Concitatione'. Victims of the blast have been known to suffer from magical burns, similar to those caused by the Fiendfyre Curse._

 _DEFence Forces were present to curb the attacks and restore order in the vicinity, and the Alley had been returned to its normal function within the hour with the presence of the Dark Lord._

 _Known Order of the Phoenix Member, Dedalus Diggle, was apprehended at the scene, after being hit by a stunning spell by Death Eaters present. His holding location is not disclosed to the public._

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had organised a school trip to extend from morning till late afternoon for first-year students, who were later caught in the Attacks. Three students, Harry Potter of Slytherin house and Oliver Rivers and Lillian Morton of Gryffindor house, are yet to be accounted for. Headmaster Severus Snape has declined to make a statement. Other casualties were shoppers and shop owners at the Alley; Madam Mallory Malkin, owner of Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, is currently attended to at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries._

 _Our heartfelt condolences from the team here at The Daily Prophet go out to the victims and their families._

"You were missing, Harry! Where did you go?"

"Nowhere, Hermione, I just got lost, that's all." Hermione didn't seem all that convinced but decided against arguing with a friend immediately after the reconciliation of their previous dispute.

"You should go, Harry, I heard they're gathering all the students caught in the attack at the Entrance Hall outside."

Most of the students were already gathered when he stepped into the Entrance Hall and he froze as Headmaster Snape's eyes locked onto his.

"Mr Potter," Snape drawled out, disdain laced to every syllable. In his periphery, Harry saw Malfoy smirk slightly, anticipating his imminent verbal lashing for being so late. The next sentence Snape uttered wiped that smug look off as quickly as it came.

"You are not involved and are free to return to your common room for the rest of the day."

Harry scampered off quickly, not looking back at the sea of apprehensive and shocked faces. He did not need to turn to know that the Headmaster was boring his eyes into his retreating back. Harry wondered what that was all about.

A/N: Whoop, another chapter :) I don't really know when the next one will come around, exam season is around again :( ~kuvyyra


	7. Chapter 7: New home

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**

AN: it's been a year or something and i stopped because i didn't know where this story was going but i've experimented a little and i think i've gotten some clarity. i don't think i'll ever abandon this story, but i may take a while to update, so i'm sorry, but onwards!

Harry strode into the Great Hall cautiously, looking around every now and again for telltale signs that Malfoy and his bullies were around for breakfast. They weren't of course, it was far too early. It was the time hirelings got up to serve them. How plebeian. A few people passed by in his blank stare to the Hufflepuff end of the Great Hall, his hand moving absentmindedly to get some jam on his toast. In the end, only when a confident swagger, followed by two hulking gaits brought him out of his reverie.

It was time to go.

He shot up from his seat, attempting to be quick but subtle, but he was about as subtle as a bullet piercing the quiet peace of the Slytherin table. No one seemed to notice him, rather luckily, or perhaps they're just ignoring him. Harry rather preferred this over the scrutinising and condescending gazes that trailed him wherever he went around even his own house, his supposed second family.

A loud rustling noise filled the muted chattering and conversations that littered the hall. He was right on schedule then; the owls were here to deliver the mail. He always left at this time, for everyone was engrossed in their letters, or for the muggleborn and muggle-raised, engrossed in the swarm of owls flying overhead or even just looking on enviously at the gifts and sweets that their more fortunate peers received from home.

He had just barely gotten a few feet away from the Slytherin table when he felt something drop on him, tumbling over his messy hair only to fall behind him neatly. His first thought was that it was some ridiculous prank someone was trying to play on him, before he turned around and saw a letter sitting on the floor innocently, just asking to be opened. He looked around, thinking it could've been anyone else's letters that he would be intruding upon, but no one stood within distance. He glanced up to see a rather magnificent eagle owl preparing to fly away from the little perch it made of a piece of decor nearby. Harry grabbed the letter quickly, shoving it back to the owl, and it looked at him as questioningly as an owl could.

"I- I think you got the wrong person? There's no one that would send me letters," he said hesitantly to it. He wasn't even entirely sure if owls could understand him, magical or not.

If owls could look condescending, that owl sure managed it. He stared at Harry in such a way that he felt chastised and silly. It almost reminded Harry of someone.

"Are you su-" the owl did not grace what it deemed stupid questions and an insult to its own competence with an acknowledgement that it heard him. Instead, it flew away, cutting Harry's sentence short. With the letter clutched in his hand, he glanced about, looking rather like a lost sheep. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, and upon glancing up, saw the eyes of multiple professors, including the Headmaster staring at him with an recognisable emotion glinting in their eyes, before following the dark owl's flight, before returning their scrutiny onto Harry and the letter he held in his hands. Harry turned away from the watchful gazes, and carefully tore open his first personal letter. His heart thumped in his ribcage at the excitement as he slowly lifted the wax seal, being mindful not to tear off the bottom. He pulled the exquisite parchment out and unfolded it.

Harry,

I have arranged for you to stay at Slytherin Fortress over Yule. A Death Eater will collect you at Platform 9.

We shall see if you are ready to begin under my tutelage then.

Riddle

Harry had started the letter smiling and ended it with a grin so impossibly large, he almost wanted to whoop out loud to release the sudden burst of energy and happiness he felt. He stopped himself, and settled into a casual, relaxed smile of pure bliss.

"Who would send you a letter, Potter?"

Just as the letter was snatched out of his grip, his calm happiness was snatched away and brutally murdered by Malfoy and his dear lackeys. Harry jumped as a scream erupted next to him, piercing the muted chatter of the hall. Malfoy looked exasperatedly at Goyle as the oversized boy pointed to nothing.

"What, Goyle? Do you see your tiny brain on the floor?" Malfoy smirked at the insult he came up with and stretched out a waiting hand, "Give me the letter will you?" Whether Goyle didn't care or didn't understand, Harry wasn't sure and never found out as Headmaster Snape swept forward to interrupt the terrified stuttering.

"Do not touch that parchment, Draco. It's cursed." Snape watched the whimpering boy with disinterest. "Mr Montague, bring Mr Goyle here to the hospital wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey he has been subjected to the timor videre curse." He spoke to the prefect in question without looking away and watched as Goyle was showed out of the Great Hall with hundreds of pairs of eyes trailing after him. Slowly, the chatter returned, but the undertones of excitement lingered. Harry felt his heart skip a beat as he now bore the weight of the Headmaster's gaze.

"Possession of cursed items is forbidden, Mr Potter. Follow me." Harry needn't turn around to know that it was Malfoy who was sniggering at his misfortune.

As they walked unendingly, Harry prepared for the worst. It was no secret that Headmaster Snape didn't particularly like children, nor was he known for being forgiving. Harry prayed fervently he would not be expelled, even if he was absolutely not at fault. If anything, Riddle was the one who started this mess. For someone that saved him from a load of trouble little over a month ago, he really knew how to mess things up. He had been so caught up in thought that he barely noticed he had followed the headmaster all the way to his office until said man shoved him through the doorway of his office.

"What business do you have with the Dark Lord, Potter?"

"I don't kn-"

"Don't even think to lie to me, boy! This is the third time I have seen proof that you are in correspondence with the Dark Lord!" He mistook the look of confusion on Harry's face to be a shocked realisation, and added scathingly, "Yes, Potter, have you realised that the person that just sent you the letter was the Dark Lord?"

"Of course I knew that!" Harry replied hotly, overcome with indignation, he glared at the man staring down at him with a sneer.

"Five points from Slytherin, Potter." Harry restrained himself from gaping at the gall of the headmaster, lest he loses another five points for his house for 'looking too dense' or something equally ridiculous and unjustified. "What are you to him? Why would he trouble himself to inquire about you, spare you from consequences after the incident at the Alley and now send you a letter?" His mind brought him back to a week ago.

Harry's head lifted up instinctively from his readings at the sound of the dorm room doors slamming open, and the angry muttering of his housemates filled the formerly quiet and peaceful room. His interest was peaked when amongst them was Malfoy. Anything that roiled the blond quite as much as this was worth taking note of.

"Two hour detentions, for a week, with Filch and a bunch of Gryffindor mudbloods! Can you believe the school? Is it unreasonable to run when there's danger? My father will hear about this. This is absurd!" As much as Harry disliked the boy, he winced at the punishment doled out to those that didn't stay close to the professors during the attack. It made sense to Harry, for the sake of instilling discipline in the children, yet it did seem unnecessarily harsh. Malfoy noticed him watching and turned his malicious attention to him. "You got lost too didn't you, Potter? Why didn't you get punished?"

"Find out yourself." Harry shot back. Malfoy scowled viciously at him, and Harry almost regretted provoking him, but instead, Malfoy pushed past him into the first year dorms to wallow in self-pity.

Snape eyed him expectantly, but something within him told him not to trust the man. Anyone within the education business yet hated children quite so ferociously for no apparent reason probably couldn't be trusted by a student. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" He had blurted out, looking the man straight in the eye. Snape's face contorted with fury and something unrecognisable and there was a stretch of tense silence, before he whispered menacingly, "Get out. Get out now."

Harry threw himself out of the office as fast as he could. He was going to be late for his Magical Arts classes and that man was giving him a migraine. Two weeks. Harry would survive for two more weeks and then he would see Tom. Harry smiled wistfully as he hurried down the many flights of stairs.

A week before the Yule break, the spirit of the holiday truly came alive. The Great Hall was decked fully in beautiful decor and shining lights that set the mood perfectly. And Harry had a problem. How was he supposed to tell Hermione that he would not be staying at Hogwarts over the holidays with her? He wanted to, at all cost, avoid another fight right before Yule.

In the end, he decided that he would tell her he was invited to stay at a friend's over Yule and would be gone. This was not technically a lie and he hoped to Merlin he will sound sincere enough that Hermione, astute as she was, would not see right through it. With that, he waited with bated breath for the day the list of students staying over the holidays is released and Hermione to come barreling down at him for an explanation as to why his name wasn't there. And the day did come, three days before the official start of the Yule break.

"Harry! I just went to check the list for people staying over the holidays and you're name's not there! Oh, Harry did you forget to sign up? Didn't I tell you over and over again to sign up? Really, you need to be more organised! Maybe you can ask Professor Slughorn to help you now! I'm sure he won't mind-"

"'Mione!" she stopped in her tirade, eyes wide at the sudden interruption, "I didn't forget, I'm just-"

"But your name isn't there!"

Harry rolled his eyes at her unwarranted worry, "It's fine, I got invited over to, uh, Theodore Nott's, he, um, his parents would like to meet some of his... friends," Harry finished lamely. Hermione, however, was ecstatic.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Harry! It'll be such a great opportunity so find out more about Wizarding culture! You'll have to write to me and tell me all about it! Why didn't you tell me earlier? Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you!" Hermione beamed at him and Harry knew that she was not just happy for the learning opportunity, but because she thought Harry finally had a Slytherin friend. Harry almost felt bad for lying and avoiding the question, but he also didn't think Hermione would appreciate the truth too much either. "Oh, just visiting the Dark Lord, Hermione, no biggy."

"I will, I promise," Harry didn't think Tom would mind too much.

Harry left early for Hogsmeade Station, both to get a good compartment and to avoid the hordes of purebloods coming down later, specifically his house-mates. After stowing his small trunk into the storage compartment, he wandered the train, before he sat down in one of compartments further away from the doors of the train in hopes that anyone he knew would find a convenient compartment to sit in near the doors. He leaned his head against the windows and took out a book he borrowed from the school's library to last him the train ride. Ten minutes before the train left, the doors slammed open and his head jerked up to see Malfoy enter with his procession. Just his luck.

Malfoy looked at him in surprise, before he smirked unpleasantly, "Going somewhere, Potter?" Harry glared at the intruder and ignored him, which served only to anger the blonde, who said, "This compartment is for purebloods only, Potter, you should get out."

"There's no such thing, Malfoy. Get your own compartment." Harry did not watch for Malfoy's reaction and returned to the book in hand. And for a brief five seconds, he had peace, which was rudely interrupted by the book abruptly being tugged viciously away from his hands. His shock allowed the assailant to snatch the book away from him and he followed the book's trajectory out of the compartment doors. "That's a library book, Malfoy!" he shouted at the smug boy, as he mindlessly shot out after the book. It was when he heard the door shut behind him that he realised the folly of his actions. He dove for the door handle, but it did not even budge. Malfoy must have magically locked it. In that instance, Harry was grateful for his having read ahead.

"Alohomora!" There was a flash and then the door sprang open with a force, hitting Goyle in the face. The overgrown boy fell backwards with a loud groan and hit the carriage floor with a resounding thud, clutching his nose.

"What's going on here?" One of the Slytherin prefects patrolling the train had heard the commotion. Malfoy was quick to respond.

"Potter assaulted him! Look at his nose!"Goyle released his nose from his tender clutch and there was a small trickle of blood around his nose, which Harry balked at the implication that he had indeed attacked Goyle with no warrant. The senior prefect tutted at the bloodied nose and muttered a quick spell to fix it, and then rounded on Harry.

"I won't dock any house points seeing as it won't do Slytherin any good, but you will be serving detention after the holidays, got it, Potter?" Harry bristled at the unjustified punishment but nodded quickly. The prefect seemed satisfied, and left without another word. Harry departed as well in the opposite direction and he could feel Malfoy smirk trailing his movement even after he heard the compartment doors slam. He found an empty carriage meer moments later and sighed in frustration. Of course the train wasn't full, this was just another opportunity to make my life difficult.

When the train arrived at Platform 9, Harry hastened to disembark, and wandered aimlessly around the station. How am I supposed to know what the Grim looks like? It could be anyone! Harry wondered what would happen if he couldn't find anyone. Would he just wait here and hope someone came to his rescue? Maybe Tom would get worried and come get him…? In the midst of his musings, a hand tapped on his left shoulder and he whipped around. A familiar face grinned back at him.

"Joe?" Joseph Hoplin, the one who saved him from his muggle relatives, and the one who visited him and brought him small treats every now and again in his time at primary school before he went to complete his Death Eater training, was here!

"Hey there buddy, it's good to see you too!" Joseph chuckled at the delightful boy, "I'm here to bring you to the Fortress." he said more seriously and from the tone of his voice, Harry could sense the burning curiosity for the knowledge of Harry's business with the Dark Lord, but professional as ever, he did not ask. he held up the trunk Harry travelled with and beckoned him to walk towards the apparition areas.

"Wow, so you're a real Death Eater now?" Harry asked, his voice dropping to an almost reverent whisper at the illustrious title. Joseph grinned proudly and gave small shrug of his shoulders.

"I'm only a Reaper right now, but I suppose I am. real Death Eater now," he glanced at Harry's lost expression and elaborated, "Reaper is the first rank we take on after we successfully finish training as Grims. After that, it gets pretty complicated." He led them to an apparition zone, telling Harry to hold on tight and side-along apparated him to a small receiving foyer of Slytherin Fortress. Harry took the moment to reorient himself and then gasped at the grandeur and beauty of the palace.

"The Dark Lord is waiting for you in that room, Harry. Best not to keep him waiting." Harry nodded gratefully towards his old friend, took a deep breath and pushed open the large double doors in front of him, walking straight into the throne room. Before him sat the Dark Lord, his scarlet eyes blazing and a soft smile (smirk?) lifting the corner of his lips. Harry took a shaky breath and hesitantly bowed to the ruler, greeting him "my lord."

"Welcome to my home, Harry. I look forward to spending the holidays with you." Harry gave him a hopeful smile and Lord Voldemort chuckled softly; it has been so long since he's someone genuinely happy to see him.


End file.
